Where the heart lies at Christmas
by Loz06
Summary: NeilAndrea…His inlaws, Philippa and Jake. Stand alone. In the lead up to Christmas Andrea gives back a gift from Neil after barely accepting it and a very wet police operation puts them together in the last place either would have imagined they’d be on Ch
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Where the heart lies at Christmas.

**Author**: Loz

**E-Mail**: loz06(at)yahoo(dot)com

**Rating: **K+

**Category**: Neil/Andrea…His in-laws, Philippa and Jake.

**Series**: Stand alone. Not related to anything else I've written.

**Spoilers**: Ah if you still believe in Santa…steer clear (thus the rating) and if you're not yet up to any of the episodes around the late 260's then come back when you are!

**Archive** (if applicable): www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net(slash)loz06

**Feedback**: The good, the bad and the very ugly it's all appreciated.

**Summary: **In the lead up to Christmas Andrea gives back a gift from Neil after barely accepting it and a very wet police operation puts them together in the last place either would have imagined they'd be on Christmas Day.

**Authors' notes: **Mmm I actually don't think I have anything to say except what's below (Ha ha!). I'm not sure this is much of a departure from everything else I've written but hey baby steps, I'm trying. Obviously it's almost February but I would have had to have started when the Christmas decorations first appear in the stores to get it out on time.

**Authors note (Oh that's right I remember now what I was going to say):** Please forgive any glaring (or otherwise) medical inaccuracies; I get sick I don't cure the sick.

**Disclaimers**: My heart lies as a fan, not with any ownership.

* * *

The message from Neil had come near the end of her shift, as they so often do, from there they might go back to hers and tonight they were going to, the only time she hated the message was when he got her to his office to cancel.

CID is unusually busy given the late hour of the afternoon, most wind down the last couple of hours doing something mundane that's not likely to turn into more work. A few officers nod in her direction, Andrea's presence in CID so frequent she no longer stands out. The blinds in Neil's office that protect prying eyes in CID from looking in are open, Andrea can see him sitting on his desk with his arms crossed, looking at his shoes.

She closes the office door behind her out of habit and Neil looks up smiling as though he is very proud of himself. From behind his crossed arms he reveals a small gift bag, an aqua colour with a white bow; he holds it out for Andrea.

"What's this?" Andrea can't help but smile as she takes the bag from him by its small handles.

"An early Christmas present, you can open it." Neil says sweetly, still smiling and Andrea pulls the gift from the bag.

"Ohh, it's beautiful." The small silver heart dangles on the delicate chain in front of her.

"Yeah," Neil nods as if to say he agrees and he did well.

"Here ya'" He says taking it from her.

"I'm not good at this but…" Neil admits undoing the tiny clasp. He proceeds to place it around her neck and attempts to secure it again.

Andrea touches the tiny heart that now rests around her neck, that's when it occurs to her. "Neil why are you giving this to me now and why here?" She asks curiously, he doesn't stop looking at his gift around her neck.

"I thought you'd like it." Andrea recognises the statement is covering for something he doesn't want to have to say, something she's not going to like. She doesn't have to push for the truth, it comes painfully fast enough, and he has yet to meet her eyes.

"Yeah but, it's just why not tonight?" She tries to keep confusion in her voice though she has a growing idea of what he's about to say, the same as more times before than she's liked. He shuffles a few steps.

"I can't make it tonight." Neil looks at her for the first time and the words are quick, maybe he thought they would be painless that way, there's no point, Andrea knew they were coming.

"You promised." Her enthusiasm sinks with her shoulders and disappointment enters her voice. Neil nods acknowledging her stated fact.

He puts distance between them as he steps over to the window; most of the damaging news is said with his back to her. "I know, I'm sorry but I have to go Christmas shopping…with Philippa." He adds the last section like it's the worst hardship in the world. Andrea can't bring herself to give him any credit for the fact he's not looking forward to the new plans.

"Christmas shopping for the cosy Christmas you're spending at home together." Anger seeps into her words and she can't look at him.

"There's nothing I can do about that…" It's really the last thing Andrea wants to hear.

"You wanna know what I'm doing for Christmas…" She still can't bring herself to look at him and already she's un-clasping the present that rests delicately over her collar. "Working 'cause I'll be damned if I spend it alone." She can't erase the anger that's growing inside of her.

"Look Andrea, you're the one I want, you're the one I think about all the time." Neil says with urgency, coming back to in front of her but Andrea's done with words and they've come too late.

"Then show me Neil! Not with words Neil or necklaces, show me." Taking his hand, her palm sliding along the back of his hand she gently rests the necklace in it. Andrea leaves the door open on the way out and leaves Neil who looks down at the necklace in his hands, a part of him is a little stunned, he thought maybe the gift would smooth over his absence from her life tonight. Mostly he's upset, it looked good on her and he wanted her to have it, he definitely didn't want it handed back in anger.

"You ready Guv? We've got confirmation." Ken pokes his head into the office a minute after Andrea's gone and Neil looks up from the necklace in his hand.

"Be there in a minute."

* * *

The first drops of rain don't register with Neil; they sit on the top of his coat taking their time to soak through, not great enough in number to make themselves known.

The grilled steps of the fire escape give him some added cover though it is intermittent at best. The cold hasn't gone unregistered with him though and he wishes he'd worn his heavier coat today – so far it had been a mild winter, even by the UK's standards. With his radio poised in hand Neil is focused and calm, inside he has to keep pushing away the events of earlier that afternoon, they weren't pleasant but that isn't the reason he keeps his eyes firmly on the double doors of the abandoned warehouse.

They'd been given a tip-off about a load of illegal fireworks coming from the continent in time for Christmas and New Years Eve and although the laws had recently been tightened it was no deterrent for some. Customs and Excise had been informed not to worry if lies were told at the point of entry into the UK and they were not to stop and search. Suspicion was the fireworks were not the only thing that were being imported by this particular consortium of criminals, this shipment presented an opportunity to delve deeper into their 'business' and Neil wanted to get them badly.

"Damn." Ken Drummond curses next to Neil who instantly knows the reason for the outburst. Neil had made him stand on the inside, closest to the building because of his shirt. The loud Hawaiian print, mellowed only by a grey jacket made Neil nervous they would be spotted.

"They're late." Neil says remaining calm despite the increasing splashes of rain. It had been a long afternoon setting up and then briefing the relief, now the night was getting on and part of Neil just wants the operation over and the arrests made, he still has fences to mend.

"And I'm going to be running across there drenched to arrest them." Ken complains, in reply the rain starts to fall consistently for the first time.

Neil looks across to the car that Phil and Jo sit in. He knows he could have been where they are and there would have been something amusing about seeing Phil drenched, his perfectly coiffed hair dripping in all directions, the complaints wouldn't have been fun though.

The reason Neil's not warm and dry, sitting inconspicuously away from the target area is the fact he's determined that he will be the only one to stuff up this operation and for that reason he's out in the rain calling the shots, no one else. After having had his Christmas gift for Andrea politely thrown back in his face earlier that evening he is more determined than ever not to fail for a second time in the same night. He realises Andrea's rejection had much more to do with what she wanted from him than just the cancellation of the night and he would have to accept that. To want Philippa out of the picture is a natural progression in their relationship.

Ken pulls up the lapels of his jacket although it makes precious little difference; the rain beats down on the iron roofs of the surrounding warehouses, drowning out almost every other sound. Snow would have been preferable at this time, stopping short of a blizzard that is.

When their targets haven't shown ten minutes later Ken shifts his stance, it's obvious he's convinced no one is coming and like Neil his shirt clings soaked to his body, their wool coats little more than heavy and cumbersome wet blankets. From the warm and dry car Phil Hunter suggests over the radio no one is coming but Neil remains unconvinced, greed and opportunity operates in rain, hail or shine, holidays or not and just personally Neil needs a success to counter balance the rest of the night.

Though its dark Neil can see the look of displeasure on Ken's face as he inspects his pants that are finally soaked and like his shirt are clinging to whatever they can. Neil ignores him focusing on the fireworks that will fall into the hands of teenagers who'll set them off at all hours, using them to intimidate and insight others.

It takes only another five minutes for there not to be a dry patch on Neil and doubt starts to creep in. While he'd been telling himself rain had slowed the lorry's travel speed he now wonders if they haven't missed a phone or radio call that changed the location of the drop off. Customs and Excise were meant to be following the lorry's progress.

His radio comes to life, through some miracle it still works despite it also having no shelter from the rain. Their target has arrived, making its way carefully though the front gates. There's a squeak and Neil glares directly at Ken who puts the look of blame squarely on his sodden shoes.

"No one moves until I say so." Neil instructs through the radio, craning his neck to look for the lorry, not yet. "Especially you," Neil looks back to Ken who protests his shoes are not his responsibility; he doesn't get much out as a set of strong headlights start on a wide arc to cross their path. Both men duck, Ken's shoes once again straining and squeaking.

The lorry leads a convoy of black Mercedes; it's too dark to see inside the windows, regardless of their tinting.

"Stand by." Neil says into the radio as their targets immerge, their umbrellas almost useless with the wind that is swirling the rain in every direction. Neil lets his expensive coat and suit jacket fall to the ground when he shrugs them off his shoulders. Ken does the same as the back of the lorry is opened and the merchandise inspected.

On Neil's command the small space springs to life, Neil runs just behind Ken, his wet sock covered feet slide against the shiny inserts of his shoes making it difficult. The sound of Ken's shoes is lost in the commotion of sirens and armed officers shouting 'put your hands up.' Umbrellas are dropped, the targets quickly joining the state of the officers that arrest them, the protests fly thick and fast.

"Guv, we've got air bombs, aerial shells, aerial maroons, mini rockets and all these that break the sound laws." Phil says from the protection of the lorry. Neil forgets the fact there's not a dry part on his body; the fines and jail terms will reach much higher than usual because the goods are imported. A smile comes to his face.

"Can we get out of here Guv?" Ken asks like he's sick of the whole thing. A young PC offers Neil a standard issue waterproof jacket; he nods her away indicating it should go to Ken.

For the first time Neil shivers but he's more than satisfied.

* * *

The miserable weather hasn't eased as Neil gets out of the car back at Sun Hill, Phil arm wrestles with one of their prisoners who resists but not enough to be charged with it. Inside his office Neil hangs up his coat and suit jacket that drops occasionally onto the carpet, he kicks off his shoes and socks, the shoes nearly ruined. He pulls at his tie but the rain has made it impossible to un-knot. Only then does he check his watch, after ten. Philippa was angry before and will be only further annoyed now; she had wanted Neil to go shopping with her so they could buy some last minute gifts, if they were going to be for him before they wouldn't be now. By now Jake would have spent a few hours at his mother's parents, Philippa stashing the gifts in the top of their cupboard; they had wisely kept a copy of Jake's letter to Santa for gift ideas.

The operation had always tentatively been on the calendar, it was confirmed moments after Andrea walked out and Ken stuck his head in. In hindsight he probably should have told Andrea the operation was the reason he couldn't see her tonight, it might have made a difference to how she left, then again maybe not. He tries not to mention the name Philippa in Andrea's presence. The two women in his life are currently angry with him; he needed tonight's success.

"I hear congratulations are in order." The Super says from the doorway, Neil hadn't heard him approach.

"Thank you Sir, it was a good result for all." The shirt clinging to Neil's back irritates him.

"You should go home and change." Adam Okaro smiles.

"I should but I really want to get these guys." There's more than a little determination in Neil's voice.

"Don't want you sick for Christmas." The Super's smile seems too wide, the Christmas sentiment out of place when neither of them have really ever talked about family, it's as though it were a deliberate attempt to connect on another level outside of work. Neil nods politely it seems to be enough.

"Neil, you ready?" Jack Meadows voice booms as he comes to stand next to Adam Okaro. "You're not, you haven't changed."

"Its fine, I don't have anything to change into anyway." Neil brushes off; he has one thing on his mind.

"O.k. you've got contestant number two." The DCI jokes and Neil ignores his phone that starts ringing only wishing he had shoes.

* * *

Streets away Philippa Manson presses the end button on the phone without leaving a message at her husband's place of work. She holds the cordless phone to her chest as she inches open the door to her son's bedroom, checking he is truly asleep not just pretending. She can't help but be happy, seeing the excitement and anticipation in his eyes and there are still four days until Christmas. She's annoyed Neil wasn't here both to see the look on his son's face and to help her. Contrary to popular myth Santa doesn't leave all the presents behind and disappear up the chimney again. Philippa pulls her son's bedroom door closed again and sighs.

* * *

"Phil you're with me." Neil says to his DS that leans against the custody desk.

"You're going to interview like that?" Somehow Phil has regained his style that was slightly dampened. Naturally the first place he looked to was Neil's bare feet.

"No one is going to see my bare feet under the table; our guest is wet as well." Neil argues.

"Look I have some clothes upstairs, they might not be totally dry yet or exactly your size…you could at least…" Phil offers and Neil realises how it is he came to once again look like he hasn't lifted a finger.

"Let's just get this over with, and then I can go home to dry clothes." Neil encourages knowing Phil won't argue, he's right.

* * *

"We'll interview them again in the morning." Neil says staying one step ahead of Jack Meadows. Thanks to the building's heating he is dryer and warmer.

"Good result tonight," The DCI says. Neil knows it must be hard for him to say, so often they've been at loggerheads.

"One of them will take a deal tomorrow after sweating it out tonight, they'll tell us what we want to know." Neil glances at his coat, still heavy with rainwater.

"Christmas present for Pippa?" Jack asks, Neil follows his look to the small aqua bag with the white bow that sits on his desk. He'd meant to put it out of sight but was distracted by Ken, one little gift bag so many issues.

"A necklace," Neil says offhandedly knowing he should be struck down for lying or at least get caught out in it.

"I'll see you tomorrow then." Jack says trying to sound connected.

"Guv," Neil replies picking up the small gift bag once he's alone again.

He thinks about Andrea's reaction, maybe she wants their fling over, that's how they started and that's what they both understood it was - a fling. He's enjoyed it, maybe too much, too deeply and that seems to be dangerous.

He recalls the scores of painful dinners with Philippa's single friends, it seemed to him they all were saying the same thing, women always have to have a relationship go somewhere, popular media had begun to assault him with a similar thing. A biological clock was ticking somewhere and if a man wasn't willing to be a party to that primitive desire to settle down and procreate then he would have to be moved on.

Neil tangles the necklace between his fingers, that's unfair. Andrea's nowhere near her late forties and he can't blame her for wanting more from him. It's been fun, warm, intimate and affectionate – everything he's not getting at home, anyone in the same situation would want more. Himself included probably he admits casually.

Neil drops the necklace into the gift bag and secures it in his desk drawer, though he's not exactly sure what he feels and how strong it is, he knows he's not prepared to lose Andrea.

* * *

To Be Continued...In Part 2 of 6 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

His kitchen is dully lit and perfectly tidy; Philippa's personal decorating touches on each shelf. Neil can see her through the muted glass; she's been reduced to a dark mass and Neil pauses knowing he may have to face an onslaught immediately. His sigh indicates he believes it to be true.

"It's after one where have you been?" Philippa asks not looking at him. She lifts the coffee to her lips as she waits for a reply, staring at the wall above the oven. Neil throws his keys on the table.

"There was an operation running tonight, it was my operation, illegal fireworks were imported." Neil knows it doesn't matter what he was doing, none of it cancels out the fact he's so late.

"Well I finished the shopping without you." It's not as though Neil didn't already realise this, it is said purely to make him feel bad, to remind him again that someone else needed him tonight, someone Philippa probably rightly thinks is more important. Neil doesn't answer; it's just an open invitation to fight. "You're dripping on the floor, don't you have an umbrella?" The coat and suit jacket over Neil's arm drop occasionally onto the tiled floor. There's more than a little annoyance in her voice, in part from the wet floor and also stemming from the fact Neil won't be drawn into a fight. He chooses to ignore the comments.

"Jake asleep?" His clothes become heavy in his arm and he piles them onto the table.

"Only for four hours." Finally Philippa looks at her husband, clearly she considers Neil out of touch. Neil only wanted to know if it had been an easy task given how excited Jake had been lately.

"I'm going to have a shower." Neil says levelly, once again picking up his wet clothes.

The house is cold and it caresses his still damp skin as he strips off his wet clothes and leaves them on the bathroom floor. The sound of the water in the shower reminds him of the rain on the roofs of the warehouse and for the first time he is warm.

He thinks of Andrea.

* * *

"Daddy," Neil's ten-year-old son never expends enough energy of a day to sleep long at night. It's barely past six when Jake Manson flings himself at Neil where he's making a fresh pot of coffee. 

"You were out like a light when I came in to say goodnight last night." Neil teases picking his son up, he's already heavy and soon he'll be too heavy to lift, it coincides with the time he'll have grown out of it.

"Only four more sleeps." Jake wriggles.

"Mmm but I don't think you've been good enough this year." Neil again teases.

"I have too, dad." Jake protests and Neil lets him shimmy down to the ground.

"Cereal?" Neil lifts the box of Jake's favourite sugar coated cardboard.

"Toast please." Jake pulls himself up the tall chair that Philippa was sitting in last night.

"I'll help you wrap your presents for your mum tonight." Neil promises as he reaches for the bread.

* * *

"Thought you might not have come in today," Phil Hunter takes the steps two at a time with Neil. 

"I'm fine."

"You were so wet last night I thought you might have woken up with a cold this morning." Phil pushes the door to CID letting Neil go first.

He'd awoken fine this morning except for feeling sluggish from a lack of sleep. It had crossed his mind as he'd stepped out of the shower he'd be vulnerable to the flu, not feeling under the weather this morning was good luck not good management.

"We're one down today." Neil reads from the message on his desk. "Ken Drummond."

"No surprises there." Phil says from where he hovers in the doorway.

"See if you can find out who's rostered in uniform today, I'll try and poach one of them." Only Neil is privy to who he hopes is downstairs and who he'll pick if he can. Out of curiosity he watches Phil who drops his keys into his top drawer, turns on his computer and then wanders downstairs. Five minutes later he's back.

"No one's out sick." He announces and then rattles off the names…no Andrea. "Though Inspector Gold didn't take her happy pills this morning."

"Thanks Phil, you don't mind a ring-in do you?" Neil ignores the last remark. Phil's look says he doesn't like it but he'll tolerate it.

When he's gone Neil snatches up the phone, looking out of his office to see if anyone is approaching. He drops the phone down again, stands nonchalantly and closes his office door. It makes little difference he can either see an interruption coming or hear them knock and hold them at bay.

Neil dials the number without thinking and sinks into his chair as it connects, when it rings he feels a little uncertain, he's not sure what he planned to say beyond asking her to talk to him.

It's a slap in the face when the ringing stops and her recorded voice asks him to leave a message.

He's rung her mobile scores of times before; it doesn't stop ringing so quickly. Andrea has to have been on the other end of the phone and had seen his number calling.

She's still angry.

* * *

"Three more sleeps, dad." Jake bounds into the living room, eyeing off the tree and the gifts that cover the floor underneath it. If any of them were for Jake he'd have shaken them by now. 'Santa' had Jake's gifts carefully hidden in a pillowcase in the top of their wardrobe; both Philippa and Neil wanted to preserve the Santa belief for as long as possible. It was a quick slide to the rest of the realities of the world from there; they weren't as nice. 

The small tickle in the back of Neil's throat that had made itself known earlier rears its irritating self again and Jake watches as Neil swallows and clears his throat.

"It's alright dad, Santa still comes to sick people." Jake assures him bounding out of the room.

"I'm not sick." Neil says quietly wishing he could believe it. He grabs a drink of water on his way upstairs to put on another layer of clothing.

* * *

"We're going to your parents place for Christmas Day?" Neil asks Philippa the following morning; she searches her bag for something she's misplaced. 

"And your parents will be here Christmas Eve along with your sister. Did you get something for her kids?" Neil pours himself some coffee mentally searching the gifts he has placed under the tree. For the first time that morning Neil notices his head feels heavy and the irritation still dances in the back of his throat.

"I'll see you tonight." Philippa says barely looking up at Neil, calling up the stairs to say goodbye to Jake and rushing out.

Neil pops the first in a packet of throat lozenges into his mouth as he pushes through the double doors to CID. Fortunately the fog in his head earlier seems to have cleared.

He'd casually enquired about uniform staff on his way in, now realising Andrea must have been granted the few days before Christmas in return for working Christmas and Boxing Day.

The phone is the first place he goes as he swings his office door closed. Throughout the course of the day he leaves four messages on her home phone, never once does she pick up. Her mobile phone rings out this time and acquires four identical messages to the ones left at home.

By the time he turns off the lights in his office and heads home his head feels heavy again, his eyes weighty under an invisible force and the back of his throat irritates, no longer coated.

* * *

The alarm wakes Neil rudely Christmas Eve morning, he reaches blindly to silence it his eyes still fused with sleep. Next to him Philippa stirs, she's not working today. 

Alarm silenced Neil opens his eyes slowly and swallows away the build up from the night in his mouth. It's like razor blades going down. As his senses awaken his head becomes heavy again, a dull ache added to the package.

"You tossed and turned all night Neil." Philippa says sleepily, apparently now at least partially awake.

Neil pushes back the bed covers, the early morning air rushing greedily for his warm skin; he hears Jake's feet on the stairs heading down.

"Do we have cold and flu tablets?" Neil asks as he shuffles to their bathroom. In the mirror he looks as bad as he feels, realising he's lucky to have kept illness at bay for this long.

* * *

"Neil you don't look good." Jack Meadows notices when Neil looks up as he enters the DI's office. Though, Neil actually feels better than when he got up this morning. 

"I'm fine Guv, just didn't sleep well last night." It's not a lie, apparently.

"I'm off now." Neil glances at his watch, midday, Jack was only doing a half day, he'd volunteered to work tomorrow, and Neil had been conspicuously silent when volunteers were requested.

"Merry Christmas," Neil wishes, he winces inwardly as he has all day with his throat. Midday only serves to remind him he's running out of time to catch up with Andrea. He doesn't want Christmas and Boxing Day to pass without seeing her; afraid her resentment of him might grow.

Neil doesn't have to go far; she's sitting alone in front of a cup of tea in the canteen. There's something there, Neil's not sure what but just seeing her triggers a feeling in him.

She scowls slightly as she sees Neil approach and sit opposite her, she drains the last of the tea from her cup giving her no reason to stay if she doesn't like what Neil has to say.

"Did you get my messages?" Neil uses a low tone out of habit, as he always does when they talk about anything personal.

"I don't want to talk Neil." Her voice clearly says she's tired of the topic, for her there's nothing left to say, no ground left uncovered. Yet on contrary she stays in her chair, seemingly to hear what he has to say, eyes fixed on his.

"Why not?" Neil pushes, there's more than something small inside of him that says her words are a lie and she doesn't want this over.

Keeping her voice even Andrea leans across the table but it's not in an effort to protect their conversation, it's for effect.

"Because when I look at you all I can see is you and a cosy family Christmas and me on the outside in the cold, alone, looking in like a fool, hoping and wishing things could be different."

"Andrea." Neil says warmly but it does nothing to placate her. She stands over him, cup and saucer in hand.

"No Neil, I'm done with words from you, promises piecrust. Come to me when you've got actions not empty rhetoric." She walks away calmly, not looking back.

At the table Neil sneezes.

* * *

To be continued...In part 3 of 6 (A part a day keeps the doctor away and improves my typing speed:0)) 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Aww you guys are sweet, you don't have to review each chapter! Just one at the end's enough...unless of course you want to (Ha ha ha!).

* * *

"Bed Jake now," Neil wrestles with his only son, trying to tickle him into submission. 

"I'm not tired." He protests through laughs. It hasn't helped that Neil's parents and sister and her kids had been over celebrating. Jake had chased his younger cousins around the house till they decided to play hide-and-seek.

"If you're still awake when Santa comes he won't stop." Neil threatens and grudgingly his son climbs into bed. Neil closes the door entirely hoping the dark will expedite sleep.

"Finally," Philippa sighs and smiles, its half past eleven. "I didn't think he'd ever go to bed."

She heads across the hall to get the gifts while Neil makes a dent in the goodies left for Santa. Philippa arranges the heavy sack of gifts on the sofa closest to the tree.

"Did you bring down the…" Neil stops, his nose tickles, irritating its way to a sneeze. "The truck," he covers his face just in time.

"That can be a surprise from us tomorrow." Although she doesn't say it Philippa's face clearly shows the fact she's not impressed with Neil not being well. "I'm going to bed; he'll be up before dawn."

Alone in the living room Neil thinks of Andrea.

* * *

"Santa's been! Santa's been!" The youngest Manson yells at the top of his lungs from the bedroom doorway, but it doesn't wake Neil. That comes as Jake throws himself on the bed between his two parents. 

"What time is it?" Philippa asks sleepily, ignoring Jake who wiggles like he's had too much sugar.

"It's five thirty; you said I had to wait till then." A deal Philippa wishes she'd made much later. Knowing there's no point sending an excited child back to bed she pulls herself up.

"Go downstairs but don't open anything till we get there." Jake runs all the way down the stairs.

"Neil." Philippa rubs her eyes greeted only by a groan.

He remains perfectly still with his eyes closed, his head still feels full, added to a newly blocked nose and sinuses. He swallows, the razor blades still present. Clearly his body has been all out assaulted overnight, earlier was just a warm up and it was only going to get worse before it got better.

"You snored badly last night Neil and when you weren't snoring you were coughing and sneezing." A progress report from Philippa isn't really necessary…he's living it. She's obviously less impressed than she was last night, there's no sympathy coming from her at all.

Neil replies but no sound escapes past his lips, Philippa is already up throwing on some clothes.

"Neil?" She stills her actions asking again and wondering if she's been talking to someone who's still asleep.

He pushes off the covers, shivering violently with the morning cold that runs up and down his spine. Sitting on the edge of the bed he knows he hasn't had hangovers this bad, every passage behind his face is blocked, stuffed and tender with the addition of nausea that makes itself known when he stands up. As he pulls on another layer of clothing he swallows out of absolute necessity only to force a cough that precedes a sneeze.

Downstairs Neil greets Jake whose clearly unaffected by the few hours sleep he had, his voice once again protests managing only a hoarse whisper. He can no longer blame whatever strange phenomenon it is that often renders a voice rough in the morning.

Philippa sits with Jake who unwraps his presents in a flurry of themed paper and in a matter of mere moments compared to the hours it took both Philippa and Neil to wrap them. Neil sits on the sofa across from his wife and son watching the delight and happiness on his wife and son's face.

When Philippa brings the toy truck downstairs, Neil's look strays and he wonders what Andrea will do this morning, he hopes she has some family that will call.

"Thank you dad," Jake flings himself onto Neil. Neil, his dad and hero who's infallible, one day he'll come to realise what a myth that is.

"Whoa on the cheek Jake," Neil redirects his son's lips but accepts his embrace without alterations. Philippa will only be less impressed if Neil passes even the slightest bit of his illness onto his son. "Guess you were good this year but you must have made it to sleep just in time." Neil teases holding his son in his lap.

But Jake's too excited to sit and be still, there are new toys to discover and eventually destroy.

"Six thirty how about some breakfast." Philippa asks her son, Neil having not long ago discovered if he didn't move his body wouldn't ache as much. Philippa doesn't get so much as a glance in reply, Jake too engrossed in his new toys.

"Neil?" Philippa offers but the thought of something that will go down like razor blades and excite his nausea is not appealing.

"I'm just going to go back to bed for a bit." Neil says to no one in particular, he shuffles up the stairs, steadier on his feet this time; on the way down he had swayed and almost lost his footing on the bottom stairs. He ignores any reaction from his wife; she doesn't feel like death warmed up.

In the bathroom Neil realises the night-time cold and flu tablets may not stay down long given the washing machine like action of his stomach but he needs their drowsy affect. He crawls almost literally back under the bedcovers.

Andrea is the last person he thinks of before falling asleep.

His dreams are schizophrenic moments of people and events in his life blended together and into backgrounds that make no sense. They jump from scene to scene, seemingly unconnected. When Philippa wakes him it is all a faded memory, like a frustrated amnesiac he can only recall flashes.

"Neil." He daren't move unless some part of his body starts protesting. He sits up slowly waiting for the nausea to return, it doesn't let him down. "It's ten thirty; my parents are expecting us sometime after eleven."

Neil moves his legs with lethargy till his feet are on the floor. A restless night's sleep with a few snatched hours that morning topped off with drowsy cold and flu tablets have left him moving like a man twice his age.

Despite the layers of clothing he shivers, contradicting his clammy skin. He looks for the clock out of habit but a cup and saucer and a handmade card block it.

In big juvenile letters, get well soon is spelt out, underneath a stick figure; most likely Neil sports an oversized thermometer in his mouth. Large bubbles surround the expressions 'ah-choo' and 'cough, cough.' Hope you feel better for next Christmas dad, love Jake it reads. The sentiment brings a smile to Neil's face though he won't be drinking the tea, discovering it's cold.

"You do feel hot." A perfectly manicured hand covers Neil's forehead but it's clinical in its approach. "Why don't you stay here for a while longer Neil," An infrequent moment of compassion from his hardened and independent wife but Neil's too sick to be cynical.

"You can get a cab; mum doesn't serve the meal till two anyway."

"We haven't exchanged our presents yet." Neil attempts to sit himself up but he can't find the strength.

"I know what you got me and you know what I got you." Philippa brushes off the idea.

"Can you send Jake up so I can say thanks?" Neil's voice is still cracked and weak. Jake is as sympathetic as a ten year old can be as Neil pulls him into a hug on the bed, explaining he'll be joining the rest of the family later and thanking him for the tea. But a ten year old has one foot out the door when it's Christmas Day and there are presents waiting for him at his generous grandparent's house.

When the house is silent and empty except for him, Neil expects to drop right back to sleep but his pattern is broken, the momentum the tablets gave him gone.

At eleven thirty Neil showers and makes himself presentable, he drinks a fresh cup of tea while he calls for a cab, making sure he has more tablets for later as well as his wallet. He feels almost human.

"Where to?" The cab driver asks as Neil relaxes back into the seat, he pauses for a moment and then meets the driver's eyes in the rear view mirror; his voice scrapes out the address.

It's not the address he was originally headed to.

"Visiting family?" The driver asks keeping his eyes on the road.

"Yeah something like that." Neil mumbles, he's not in the mood to confess especially to a stranger; neither does he feel well enough to purge his secrets. Neil knows all too well not to give away too much information; Philippa's specialty is the extraction of information. Most of all he doesn't know how he feels about what he's about to do, the right thing by Andrea sure, but Philippa and Jake…

* * *

To be continued...In part 4 of 6. 


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

As the cab slows outside of Andrea's flat Neil looks up at her window, he considers telling the driver to take him to Philippa's parents. Still feeling weak he pulls twice at the door handle to open it, stepping gingerly onto the path outside the flats. He looks up at the flat again but there are no signs of life, the curtains drawn but none of that is unusual.

"Hey mate." The driver calls, the winter cold chases its way up Neil's spine, the driver wants to be paid.

Neil sneezes as he digs for his wallet in his jacket; his leather gloves make things slippery and cumbersome when pulling out a note.

"Get well soon." The driver wishes with more formality than feeling. Neil can't shake the memory of the strange looks he got from the driver. A well dressed man who gets into a cab alone from a large expensive home whose destination is not a doctor despite him sneezing and spluttering everywhere, his answer about family ambiguous at least must be slightly odd and on Christmas Day.

It takes effort to move himself, limbs stiff and sore Neil feels himself getting worse, having felt almost human before he left home he never thought he'd feel as bad as he does.

Neil massages his fingers on his forehead, a dull headache forming on top of every other part of his body that screams, making itself known. He presses the buzzer that sounds in Andrea's apartment; ultimately it's up to her if he gets through the two doors to see her. When there's no reply after a moment he tries again, the only reply to his second request to be let inside is silence.

Stepping back he looks up at her window again nothing's changed, still he searches for his phone, removing his glove to dial Andrea's number with the tiny buttons. He sneezes again and Andrea's recorded voice kicks in. Neil drops his head knowing if she's there she's not going to answer now.

"Andrea…it's me, Neil." He begins listening to his hoarse voice that almost hurts. "If you're there…" It's seven words too many and he ends up coughing down the phone line. "I was hoping you'd let me in so I could see you, I know you're angry, I…" But he's out of time, the beep reaches Neil's ear, dejected he hangs up, his hand with the phone drops to his side and his head hangs.

For a second he has hope as he hears the security door open, his head snaps up to see a young family coming towards him. The young boy swings himself on his parent's arms and it isn't lost on Neil that this is how he, Philippa and Jake should look.

"Who are you after?" A sweet female voice asks, the young mother stops though her son continues to pull.

"Andrea Dunbar on the second floor," Neil says as casually as his voice will allow.

"We know Andrea, we live next door, she bought Ryan a present over this morning, and she said she was going to work then…poor thing on Christmas Day." Andrea's words about why she chose to work today burn Neil's ears; she had no one else to go to, least of all him.

"Thank you." Neil says politely and forces a smile, "Merry Christmas."

He watches as the happy unit heads to their car. He feels better knowing that Andrea hasn't been ignoring him just now.

Neil reaches for his phone again and calls another cab.

* * *

"Daddy's here, daddy's here." Neil hears the excited voice of his son as he approaches the stately home of Philippa's parents. The curtains next to the door rustle and a moment later his mother-in-law opens the door, looking out onto the street for Neil's car. 

"Did you get a cab Neil?" She asks.

"I did, Merry Christmas." Neil says stepping inside his voice is still scratchy.

"Merry Christmas, you don't sound good." Martha Pearson puts her arms around Neil.

"Don't get too close." Neil warns as she kisses him on the cheek.

"Pippa told us, how are you feeling now?" She looks over her son-in-law with more concern than her daughter has.

"My little toe feels alright." Neil manages a smile and the small joke through every part of him that still aches.

"Do you want something to take?" One of the corners of his eye Neil sees Roy Pearson step into the tastefully decorated entry space.

"Thank I'm carrying my own pharmacy." Without gloved hands Neil pulls out the cold and flu tablets he's carrying.

Neil greets his father-in-law formally, though Neil doesn't have much of a handshake to offer. He's too sick to feel anything about Roy's indiscretions and why his wife and daughter continue to tolerate it, turning a blind eye, happy to remain ignorant.

"Neil." The sound of Philippa's sweet voice that so often masks her tough nature turns him around. "I didn't expect to see you so soon; it's only a quarter past twelve." She too presses a kiss to Neil's cheek, always keeping up appearances, putting on a show. Most of the time Neil tolerates it and accepts that's who his wife is and other times when he has other gripes…

"I couldn't get back to sleep but I didn't feel like driving." Neil's voice begins to fade even with the small amount of talking he's just done.

"How are you feeling?" The sincere concern that comes out now but never at home irritates him.

"Why Philippa do you care?" It doesn't really have force because of the way he sounds but Philippa still looks a little stunned and shocked; Neil's just glad he can't see the face of his in-laws. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, I don't mean it, I just don't feel well, my head is still aching, every passage behind my face is blocked, my eyes are watering, my nose is running, my throat's sore, mouth dry, my voice is gone, I'm coughing and sneezing, every part of my body aches, I'm cold but clammy and the only good thing is that the nausea is gone."

"This one is for you Grandma." Jake announces entering the room with precision timing effectively ending any discomfort the adults might be experiencing as a result of Neil's outbreak. Jake has an oversized box in his arms, clearly he'd been waiting with anticipation for presents and now that his father was here he knew he could open them.

"O.k. Jake," Philippa gently steers her son by his shoulders through to the formal room where the perfectly decorated Christmas tree stands. Roy and Martha step past Neil who shivers for the first time in the large old house. Although a fire crackles in the room as they un-wrap gifts from each other, Neil keeps his coat on.

Like a lot of other things in the family, Neil's snipe seems to have been put out of the minds of everyone there except for him.

Jake tears at his gifts with the same vigour he did this morning, when Philippa tries to reign him in, watching gift boxes and bags go flying, Roy insists it's o.k. Jake's a child and it's Christmas, for once Neil is on the same page as his father-in-law.

"The bed in the guestroom is made up." Martha offers as she sits gently down next to Neil who fights the dizzy feeling currently invading his head. "I'll wake you when the food's ready."

Neil smiles weakly and says thanks but refuses; he doesn't want to miss anymore of today. Just the sight of Jake on the floor surrounded by simple things that are bringing him so much joy makes Neil feel slightly better.

"Dad play with me, play with me." Jake jumps up and down in front Neil, the contents of the board game shaking in the box.

"O.k. set it up." There's no way he can turn his son down. Later Neil remembers his in-laws and Philippa gravitating to the kitchen, he remembers lying down on the carpet and getting a pillow off the sofa for his head, he remembers nothing after telling Jake to take his turn.

"Neil." He's not sure how long someone has been trying to wake him but he hears his name called. Before he even opens his eyes he notices one nostril is blocked, all the gunk filling his sinuses having drained to the right, the side on which he is lying, his headache is still there but the nausea is still on vacation. His whole body still aches.

Neil sits up slowly so as not to invite the dizzy feeling back, his eyes clearing to see Philippa in front of him. "How long have I been asleep?"

"About one and a half hours, you should go home Neil, there's no point you pushing yourself, you'll only prolong your recovery. Jake won't mind, he knows you're not well, he won't even remember this day when he's older." Somehow the sincerity and compassion only makes Neil more determined to see the day out, though he has nothing to prove as a parent.

"Is the food ready?" Neil asks getting to his feet like a newborn foal; he doesn't bother looking over his shoulder for any reaction from Philippa.

The meat on the plate in front of him looks tender and the vegetables fresh yet they hold all the appeal for Neil right now of an ice cold bath. He realises there's no way he's going to be able to eat a fraction of what's been placed in front of him, his appetite having been missing for days. At any other time he'd tuck into the meal as though it were his last, now he's just grateful the nausea is gone, it would make eating, that's become a chore, that much more difficult.

As his family around him starts eating and murmuring about how good the food is, Neil cuts a small section of the meat and takes a mouthful. It doesn't take long to realise he can't taste because he has no ability to smell anything.

"How's yours Neil?" Martha asks and he immediately decides to lie.

"It's delicious." On top of the fact it goes down like razor blades.

As the conversation around the table starts up, the family includes Neil but as his voice deteriorates their contact is reduced to eyes and some well-placed nods from Neil.

He holds off for as long as he can, till everyone else's plates are almost empty before excusing himself. "I'm sorry I don't have much of an appetite, it was delicious though." Neil repeats.

"You can't taste a thing can you?" Martha smiles.

"I'm sure it tastes wonderful." Neil manages a smile.

Philippa sends him a look that suggests he's just insulted the hostess not complimented. "If you'll excuse me I'm just going to take some more cold and flu tablets."

"Neil, go lie down in that guest room, don't come back to the table, it's ridiculous you propping yourself up like you are you should be resting, we're all just going to sit around and recover from what we've eaten anyway." Neil starts to protest.

"That's an order, you do take them a work right?" Martha says cheekily.

"Thank you," Neil smiles gratefully.

In the bathroom Neil looks at the tablets realising the last few have made precious little difference to how he feels and may be contributing to his nausea, in the least he doesn't feel as though they will stay down.

The bed is comfortable, although at this stage he could sleep on anything, with four layers of clothing and bedding Neil finally feels warm before dropping off to sleep.

* * *

The taste of stomach acid rising in the back of his throat is what greets Neil when he wakes later that evening. His stomach tumbles, the nausea is back only worse and it feels almost as if his digestive system is working in reverse. 

He gets up too quickly, his head spins, crashing him into the walls of the hall. He makes it just in time to the bathroom where he gets a second viewing of the tiny meal he'd eaten that afternoon.

On the bathroom floor is where Philippa finds him, he dares not go back to bed in case his stomach isn't yet empty.

"Are you alright?" There's compassion in her voice but all Neil can muster is a shake of his head.

"Sitting on the cold tiles won't help you." It's true he has shivered more times than he'd counted but he couldn't or didn't dare get up.

"Dad was going to invite us to go to the country house for a few days but he's seen how sick you are." She's not angry, unimpressed or disappointed like before.

"You go, take Jake, you won't catch whatever it is I've got if you go now. I'll be o.k." Neil says hoarsely.

"You sure?" Philippa pulls the two lapels of Neil's coat together.

"I just need to sleep and if I feel better in a few days I'll come up." With the last estimation Neil's not sure if he's delusional or it's wishful thinking.

"We were going to go to church with mum tonight, dad wants to leave tomorrow so I thought I'd drop you at home, pack some things and spend the night here, as long as you'll be o.k." Neil nods and with Philippa's help gets himself up off the floor.

* * *

To be continued...In part 5 of 6 (Which I promise features Andrea as does six; I didn't really split the story into chapters too well.) 


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

Philippa had fussed when they'd gotten home, refusing to let him fall asleep on the downstairs sofa. Jake had bought him his cherry flavoured cough medicine, the scent of which turned Neil's stomach on a good day.

"I'm going to call your sister to come and check on you." Philippa tells Neil as he climbs gingerly into bed.

"No, she has three kids of her own." Neil refuses.

"Your parents then," Philippa tries again.

"They'll make me worse." Neil again refuses.

"Promise me you'll call if you feel worse, we'll come back." Neil's not sure what annoys him more, her lack of caring or the over compensation.

The clock glows angrily at Neil as he drifts in and out of sleep that evening. When he wakes the red numbers glow nine, red on an alarm clock to remind you you're either late for something or going to be. At the end of the bed Neil's feet hit a stack of blankets Philippa must have left, there's a new box of tissues on the bedside table, the type that don't feel as though they could double as sandpaper and have a delicate scent woven into them. Neil pulls himself into the bathroom intent on having a shower; fresh pills and mixtures have been set out for him.

He stands under the hot water until his skin turns pink but he feels almost human again.

Downstairs chamomile tea has been left out; even dying he wouldn't drink it. In addition he still doesn't feel like he can keep anything down.

When he calls for a cab he gives the same destination address as earlier in the day.

In the back of the cab Neil wonders if his wife feels a little guilty about leaving him.

* * *

There's a light on in Andrea's second floor apartment when Neil gets out of the cab and it lifts his spirits. Optimistically he presses the security buzzer and waits, two floors up the curtains are pushed back and Andrea Dunbar looks down to see it is whom she hopes it is. Without uttering a word to Neil she releases the lock on the door, Neil having not seen her looking down on him wonders if she isn't expecting someone else and has let him in by accident. 

His progress up the stairs is slow, his body still feels heavy and achy and his arm doesn't lift as high as it usually does to knock on her door. He sneezes and fumbles for a handkerchief as the flat door opens.

Though his eyes are watering he can see she's dressed in comfortable clothes her hair wavy and untamed spilling across her shoulders and back. To him she looks beautiful in whatever she wears. The door is open enough for her to fit in, her features blank and Neil realises that he's put all his effort into just seeing her and he has no idea what to say.

"I know you're angry with me." Each word is painful and rough.

"I am angry." She says calmly. "Angry you're so sick I can't say all the horrible things I want to say to you." Her tone is the exact opposite of her words.

"Say them; I can't feel any worse than I do already." Neil coughs but Andrea doesn't let fly with a barrage of words uttered in anger, she opens the door and steps aside encouraging him in.

"I got your message, I was at work." Andrea says as Neil let's himself down into the sofa, his mind wants to sit up and the rest of him wants him to lie down.

"I was here before midday; your neighbours said you were at work." Andrea nods and hesitates on the edge of the sofa before sitting down. "I'm sorry you had a lousy day."

"It wasn't so bad; Inspector Gold had Christmas cake." Andrea recalls.

"Good." Neil says softly though he doesn't feel absolved of his guilt.

"I know what I said but you shouldn't be here Neil, you should be with your family. I don't even want to think where you told them you were going." Andrea stares across the room not making eye contact.

"My family's seen me, Philippa has been angry at me for being sick at Christmas, I watched Jake open all his presents, Martha's fussed over me, Roy's ignored me, my sisters kids have trashed my house and my parents have been indifferent."

"So why are you here? Because I got angry, because you thought my Christmas was lousy or because you felt obligated?" Andrea asks turning to look at him, fire growing inside of her.

"Because I want to be here, because you care that I am here." It stuns Andrea.

"Do I?" She says hesitantly though she wishes it were with more spunk. Honestly his cracked and imperfect words have floored her.

"Yes, it means something to you that I'm here and not just because I have to lie to get here, that I have to want to or I wouldn't bother to make the effort. You would never have gotten upset like you did the other night if it didn't mean something for you." Neil's voice and throat disintegrate into a series of coughs; while he recovers Andrea absorbs his words.

"So this is you showing me you want me, not with gifts or words?" Andrea says slowly.

"This can't end." Neil almost whispers and although it's involuntary it has the right effect.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want it to," there aren't too many words left in Neil's voice.

"Why?" Andrea pushes again he's been generous with what he thinks but she needs to know how he feels.

"Because I thought about you today while my son was unwrapping a present from my wife and I and that's got to mean something."

"What?" Andrea says gently pushing again.

"That you're important to me, that I want you." Neil pauses, both wear soft looks and for a moment Neil dares to think maybe he's convinced her. "I'm trying, not just here and now, all the time but sometimes I don't know what to do, what the next step is or whether I'm ready to take it just yet. But I know I don't want to lose you." It's all Andrea wants.

"You're sick, for now just being here is too much." Andrea shifts herself next to Neil, resting a palm on his cheek.

"I'm one big germ factory right now." Neil sighs as she kisses his forehead and Andrea laughs at the description.

"Don't care." She says slowly meeting her lips with his; the kiss is soft, gentle and sweet but short as Neil pulls away quickly.

"Can't breathe through my nose," he excuses casting a glace over each inch of her face. "You're going to be as sick as me now."

"Don't care." Andrea bites her bottom lip. "You'll just have to bring me chicken soup in bed."

"Oh I left your present in the office." Neil exclaims remembering suddenly.

"Yours is under my tree but it doesn't matter." Andrea forgives smiling. "You know a part of me is happy you're here, the other feels bad."

"Don't…I want to be here." In Andrea's lap, Neil's hands find hers.

"Do you need something you look terrible?" She traces a light thumb across his cheek. "Water or something?"

"No thanks. I vomited earlier this afternoon, I can't keep anything down." But Andrea doesn't listen; standing up out of the sofa she heads to the kitchen.

"Water won't hurt you." She says with her back turned. Just inside the kitchen Andrea hears Neil's weak call out to her.

"I'm fine, thanks." It's followed by a thump that shakes the floor. Worried she goes back to the living area only to be alarmed to see Neil picking himself up off the floor.

"Are you alright?" With concern and a little panic on her face she kneels next to him.

"I'm alright; I just got a little dizzy when I stood up." Neil says slowly, not believing him Andrea puts her hand against his forehead.

"You're hot and your hands are clammy, I'm calling an ambulance." She's now more than concerned.

"No ambulance, I'll get a cab." Neil argues.

"A compromise, I'll drive you." Andrea says helping him up off the floor.

* * *

To Be Continued...Last part tomorrow! 


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

Accident and Emergency is empty when Andrea helps Neil through the doors, the combination of Christmas Day and the cold weather keeps people indoors and incident numbers down.

A group of nurses laugh behind a counter, the department festively decorated. Two break away from the group when they see Andrea and meet her a few steps inside the doors.

"You right love?" The first nurse says watching Andrea supporting Neil; the other collects a wheelchair from down the corridor.

"He's had a cold and he got out of the sofa a short while ago, he felt dizzy and collapsed." Andrea can hear the concern in her voice, it's not lost on her the magnitude of her concern and just how much Neil has come to mean to her.

"O.k., it'll be alright." The nurse says soothingly and Andrea reads her nametag – Betty. "We'll get…" Betty trails off.

"Neil, Neil Manson, I can still talk." He says though with his voice it lacks convincement.

"Of course you can love, we'll get you settled into a room and a doctor shouldn't be too long." The second nurse approaches with the wheelchair and Neil seems to fall gratefully into it. It's then Andrea feels nervous and worse than when she first came in. "We'll let you know when you can come in and see him." Betty says in the same calming tone but Andrea still feels upset as Neil's pushed out of her sight.

Betty heads over to the counter picking up some paperwork that she hands to Andrea. "We need you to fill out these, hon. He'll be alright." But none of what she's said has had a reassuring affect.

In the waiting chairs Andrea trembles slightly as she takes in the forms, nothing about her surrounds comforts her or takes away the fact she's worried about Neil, not the disinfectant smell, the pastel coloured walls or the fact that everything is so clean.

Things start climbing to the surface that she knows have always been there but she has never admitted to herself, things about how strong her feelings for Neil are.

The paperwork is long and detailed and in her current state Andrea feels overwhelmed. She starts at the top but when she realises she doesn't know Neil's middle name or if he even has one, she gets more upset.

The forms are full of basic things a wife knows about her husband that Andrea has no idea of, blood type, allergies, and medical history. She can't even remember the details of his address.

So she waits the blank forms in her lap, her right leg jiggling up and down with her left crossed over it. Eventually she slots some coins into the machine for some coffee, as it pours Andrea freezes.

"Mrs. Manson." A female voice says, it sounds as though it knows whom she wants to talk to. Andrea's only too glad her back is to the rest of the room. Her chest tightens and slowly she turns looking for Philippa, unsure of what to say if Neil's wife is there and if she's recognised.

"Mrs. Manson." The nurse says coming over to Andrea who reads her nametag, Emily. "Has your husband had anything to eat or drink today, has he been vomiting?" For a minute Andrea's head swims with the words, husband, Mrs.

"I'm sorry." Andrea clears the distraction from her head. "I'm not Mrs. Manson…I'm Andrea Dunbar."

"Sorry Ms Dunbar." Emily apologises. "Has your partner had anything to eat or drink today, has he been vomiting." For a minute Andrea is just going to leave it at that, to misrepresent herself till she realises she might be recorded somewhere.

"I'm sorry I don't know Mr. Manson is my…" I might be in love with him her unsure heart says. "Colleague, we're police officers and we were working tonight. He said he'd vomited earlier but I haven't seen him eat or drink anything."

"Oh I thought I recognised you, you've been in here before in uniform." Emily's wide smile doesn't help Andrea whose heart jumps at the fact she's been recognised.

Andrea swallows. "I don't know any of the details for these forms."

"Its o.k. Mr. Manson can fill them out later." Emily smiles warmly.

"He has a cold or something; he was out in the rain on a job on the twentieth of this month." Andrea adds remembering.

"It's not a cold; it's the flu that has a hold of him, nothing major. I don't suppose he's taken it easy in the meantime, hasn't been resting so he can get well." Emily jokes good-naturedly. "Men are so hopeless they think they can just soldier on and they'll get over it or it'll go away, they won't come to see a doctor and then when it gets really bad and they do you'd swear they had a half hour to live."

"I know, well I think he's worked everyday since." It's a safe bet anyway and Andrea feels her spirits rise a little.

"And it's the mad Christmas season." Emily adds, he has me complaining and demanding things from him as well Andrea reminds herself.

"Has his family been called?"

"I called them from the Sun Hill station." Andrea answers instantly, maybe a little too fast. "They should be here soon." Philippa and Jake will have to be called and Andrea doesn't envy Neil for having to come up with an explanation as to how he came to be in the hospital, at that point she will have to leave.

"You can go see him, dear." Emily smiles warmly. "Room five."

Andrea heads slowly along the corridor, not sure if she likes this role with Neil she's never played before and has been thrown into. A part of her feels out of place because of the nature of her relationship with him another feels it's wrong that she's not supposed to care this much and doesn't belong here, the other wants to shower him with her love and support. At the window to the room Andrea looks in watching Betty fuss with an IV bag and the blanket that covers Neil.

"Mild to moderate dehydration," Andrea jumps; she'd been staring into the room and didn't see Betty come out. "And a bad case of the flu with a slightly elevated temperature."

"He'll be alright." Andrea doesn't know why she asks; she knows dehydration at Neil's level isn't going to kill him.

"Sure, we're giving him intravenous fluids, I'd say he hasn't had much in a few days what with his vomiting and nausea, the doctor will keep him here till he's hydrated and then you can take him home, just keep the fluids up to him, even if he feels nauseous."

"Thank you." Andrea says absently, turning her attention back to the room, she slips in when Neil sees her standing outside.

"I'm so sorry." He says his voice no better.

"It's fine." Andrea smiles reassuringly; she hovers at the foot of the bed. Her eyes cast over the starched white sheet and blanket and the IV that delivers fluid through some part of Neil's left side.

"Thanks for dragging me here." Neil smiles weakly. "Sit down." He nods towards the edge of the bed.

"I'm going to go." Andrea smiles reassuringly. "Let you call Philippa and Jake."

"No don't go." Neil tries to push himself to sit up further but he's still weak and he struggles, Andrea rushes to stop him. "I want you here."

"Philippa is going to be wondering where you are." She pulls the covers back over his chest and remains hovering next to the bed.

"No, she won't." Neil smiles over at her and explains the situation.

"This is taking it too far as an excuse to see and talk to me." Andrea jokes sitting herself on the edge of the middle of the bed.

"I'm so glad you're here." Neil reaches out with his good hand to cover hers.

"I'm glad you came today, I'm sorry about the whole present thing in your office." She looks down at their joined hands.

"You're just saying that because you think you made me sick." Neil teases.

"I know about the operation in the rain, Phil Hunter was mouthing off." Andrea comes back.

"Guess I can't milk it with you then." Neil smiles.

"Do you feel any better?" Andrea looks at the IV bag, it's still practically full and Neil shakes his head.

"I feel like I'm dead but having you here helps," Andrea smiles, it's just as Emily had said, over dramatic at the same time as trying to score some points.

"Can you turn the lights down?" Neil looks over his shoulder at the board of switches on the wall behind the bed; Andrea finds the one that operates the only light in the room. It casts its beam upwards and onto the wall above the bed.

As the room darkens, Neil shifts on the bed to the left. "Get up here with me." He invites Andrea. The room is not pitch black, light still coming through the cracks in the blinds and from the open door but it's enough.

"I told the nurse we were colleagues." Andrea shakes her head; her feet remain planted next to the bed.

"Don't care." Neil says softly reaching for her hand, coaxing Andrea till she climbs up and lies on her left side on the bed next to him. She rests her head in the crook of his arm, a protective arm wraps around his middle.

"I never said Merry Christmas to you." Andrea shifts trying to get a little more comfortable, a kiss is pressed to the top of her head before Neil wishes her a Merry Christmas in return. She's happy for Neil to be silent after that, to keep herself amused and calm she monitors his laboured breathing.

"What blood type are you?" Andrea asks out of nowhere, she checks the IV; it's less than a quarter empty. For a moment there's silence and she thinks he's probably dropped off to sleep.

"'O' I think, whatever the most common one is."

"Do you have any allergies?" Andrea asks.

"None that I know of."

"What about that scar on your eyebrow, how did you get that?" Andrea shifts again so she can look up at Neil.

"I think my sister threw something at me when I was a child, Nurse Dunbar." Neil jokes. "Where are all these questions coming from, did they ask you to fill out some forms."

"There's just a lot of stuff I don't know about you." Andrea pulls herself in closer to Neil who presses another kiss to the top of her head.

"Jake and Philippa will be gone for a week at least, how would you feel about nursing me back to health?" Neil asks cheekily.

The only reply to come out of the darkness is Andrea sneezing.

* * *

Das Ende - Thanks for your support through a story which is assuredly not my finest one. 


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